


Hellspawn

by realmzenith



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Angst, Contracts, Demons, Everything is a mess, Horror, M/M, Ocean, Self-Harm, a little bit in descriptions at least, a mess, in reference to signing contracts in blood, ludwig is stubborn, mentions of gilbert, mmmm i dont want to spoil much more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:34:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmzenith/pseuds/realmzenith
Summary: Yong Soo is trying desperately to convince Ludwig not to take up a demonic contract for his soul, but he figures that if he can't change his mind, Ludwig may as well make the contract with him.





	Hellspawn

**Author's Note:**

> A very late gift for my friend, [Mystic](https://wtpyrofreak.tumblr.com)! Thank you to my beta reader, [Rainy](https://regneriisch.tumblr.com), once again, and I sincerely hope you all enjoy (especially Mystic though because gosh, this is late. I'm so sorry.)

“I’m not lacking in the reading comprehension department.”

Yong Soo raises a brow. He files idly at his claws with the metal file Ludwig had bought him, blunting the sharpened edges to rounded points. “Ludwig, I’m not reading you anything. I’m talking to you out loud, and I really don’t think you’re getting what I’m saying.”

“I’m not a child. Besides, I’ve already made up my mind. It’s no use trying to convince me otherwise. You know I have to do this.”

“You really, really don’t.” He looks up from his work, brows drawing down. “You shouldn’t.”

“Yong Soo, Gilbert-”

“-Is gone, and swimming down to the bottom of the ocean isn’t going to bring him back. That’s fucked up. I can’t let you do this.” His grip tightens around the file, and his lips draw tight. “Ludwig, I won’t let you do this. I won’t give you a contract.”

Ludwig’s lips part. His face scrunches inwards, eyes flashing with something hot, and he pauses, frozen for a second like the frost atop the dirt. A second passes. The hard furrows melt into drawn lines, and his jaw clamps closed, his hands clasped between them. Yong Soo’s heart clamps shut like a bear trap wrenching sideways and tearing hard into his flesh, but he stays silent, his gaze fierce.

To Ludwig’s credit, he doesn’t look away. He stares straight into his wholly black eyes and frowns, looking far older than his twenty-something years.

“I’ll find another way.” His voice is hollow, resolute. For the first time in decades, Yong Soo is afraid.

He sets down the file and hunches down, resting his hands on his knees. He can hear the dishwasher running in the kitchen and the fan spinning overhead. It’s too mundane when the world should be stopping at Ludwig’s reckless assertion.

“You can’t do that. They’ll tear you apart. Not all hellspawn are as reasonable as me. You can’t do this.”

“You don’t have any power over me,” Ludwig says, voice taut and forced down from a shout. “If you draw up the contract, you could keep me safe.”

Yong Soo breathes, the earthen air rushing cold through his heat-tempered lungs. He rubs his thumb along his claw and digs his bare heel against the couch. “Ludwig, don’t do this. Please don’t do this. You’ll kill yourself. It’s not worth dying over.”

“Is my brother’s life not worth my best effort?” Ludwig grits out from between his clenched teeth, the edge of anger cutting through his tone.

“That’s not what I said. This isn’t a life for a life. This is a sacrifice that will do fuck all. You’re going to die, and he’ll still be dead, and it’ll be for  _ fuck all _ . Ludwig, don’t you fucking dare go behind my back and summon another demon.”

Ludwig stands from his armchair. He rips his gaze from Yong Soo’s and marches towards the kitchen, stride long and arms swinging wide. Yong Soo scrambles up from his chair. Adrenaline spikes, and he lunges forward, catching Ludwig’s wrist in his hands.

“Stop. Don’t do this. This shit is insane. It’s suicide. It’s-” Yong Soo’s heart in his throat, beating out a frantic rhythm against his skin. Ludwig’s skin is warm beneath his fingers, alive and soft. Too alive, too soft. They’ll tear him to unrecognizable, bite-size shreds in seconds.

“Fine.” Ludwig doesn’t look back. “I’ll go without a contract.”

“Fine!” He releases Ludwig’s wrist like it’s branded him, hot and red against his palm.

Ludwig turns and stares him straight in the eyes, tone impossibly level. “You’ll make me a contract?”

“I’ll make you a contract.  _ Fuck _ . Happy?”

“No, but I’m… hopeful.”

Yong Soo feels sick to his stomach. 

 

* * *

Yong Soo has never hated the sight of blood until now. It’s always a little unnerving to see it well up, perfectly red and liquid, from the gashes and the cuts and the self-inflicted wounds. Even after all these years, he still finds himself expecting something less bright, less fluid. He doesn’t like the smell of it or enjoy watching humans produce it, but in the past, it’s always mesmerized him just a bit. Now he looks away, fingers digging hard into his thighs and bile rising up from his gut. He thinks the image of Ludwig, white-knuckled and shaky, as he draws his quill across the parchment will be forever etched in his mind. 

Ludwig exhales hard, his signature penned in blood, and white hot ricochets down Yong Soo’s spine. Their contract is sealed. The deed is done, and he still feels sick.

“Is that all?” Ludwig says.

Yong Soo reaches for Ludwig’s hand, grimacing at the knife slash on his palm, and brings it up to his mouth. He runs his tongue across the cut, lathering it in saliva. Ludwig shudders. It still tastes like wet iron.

“What are you doing?” His voice shoots up an octave.

Yong Soo raises a brow, Ludwig’s hand still cupped beneath his lips. “What?”

“What are you-” He's red at his ears and neck. His blushes always starts just there before rising to his cheeks, and the familiarity nearly makes Yong Soo smile. 

Yong Soo hums and licks up the last bit of skin. He runs his tongue over his lips, holding Ludwig's hand up for him to see. “Taking care of you. Obviously. It's what you said I should be doing.” He grins slightly in an attempt to hide the rising flush in his cheeks, forgetting that there's likely still blood on his fangs. Sometimes he forgets that humans are not so casual.

Ludwig takes back his hand, staring at the newly healed skin in disbelief. “You can do that? I've never heard of a demon…” 

“What? Closing up skin?” Yong Soo smiles. “We don't do it often. It doesn't really cross my mind to if I'm being honest.” 

“So why…?” He rubs his hand against his pants. 

“Because I like you more than most mortals.” 

And it's true. The ghost of Ludwig's hand in his, the flutter of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his skin is still fresh in Yong Soo’s mind. He wants to take him up in his arms and run his fingers through his hair and let himself say the reason why he wanted the file for his claws was to do just that without bringing Ludwig any harm. He grins, cursing the likely melancholy creeping up on his features. 

Ludwig frowns. Hesitates. He looks like he wants to tell him something, but instead, he says, “I like you more than most demons.”

Yong Soo’s heart skips a beat, and he smiles despite himself. “Ludwig, I'm the only demon you know.” 

“Still. My statement still holds.”

“You're a hopeless dork.”

“I know.”

 

* * *

Yong Soo can't help but stare. He knows there must be some unspoken moral code against this, but as Ludwig tugs his shirt off his shoulders, revealing the sculpted musculature of his back, he cares less and less. He tugs off his pants and steps towards the edge of the jagged shore, his calves tensed as he picks through the ridges. Yong Soo bites at his lip. The fog runs in and out from the water, obscuring Ludwig’s body behind a veil of mist though his bright red shorts remain vaguely visible. Ludwig dips his toes in the water, his hair falling in his eyes, and Yong Soo’s heart stops.

It’s too soon.

He digs hard into the rocks and pushes, wings unfurling in a leathery brown expanse. He flaps once, and the wind buoys him upwards. Sweeping towards Ludwig from his side, he stops in a beating hover before him, the fog burning like little biting bugs against his skin.

“Ludwig, listen to me!”

He wants to reach out and set his hands gently on his shoulders. Touch him once more before he’s gone.

Ludwig hesitates before the water, beautiful and enraptured, and Yong Soo’s thoughts hurl themselves into the past. It’s the same wide-eyed wonder Ludwig had given him the day he’d first appeared in his living room, curling horns and beating wings. It still pulls up the same fondness for this one stubborn mortal in Yong Soo’s tightening chest. He frowns, unwelcome emotions tugging hard at his heart.

“Yong Soo?” Ludwig says, his voice muffled by the void of the sea.

He looks so small, so fragile. Yong Soo wants nothing more than to pull him close to his chest and fly him far from this place of death.

“Listen,” Yong Soo says, “There are other ways! Well, there aren’t, but you can still turn back now. You’re going to die if you go through with this. This is the fucking end of the line, but you can still turn back now!”

Ludwig’s jaw sets in grim determination. There is the reckless light of fire in his eyes, lit by the impossible volume of  _ good _ in his heart, and it’s then that Yong Soo lets himself admit that he wants nothing more than to kiss him and by so doing, spirit his pain away. He wants to touch the line of his jaw, brush his fingers across his cheek, settle his cold hand against his warmth. He already knows Ludwig will refuse to change his mind. He knows he’ll have to watch him wade into the merciless sea to a place where Yong Soo cannot follow. And he knows how impossible it will be for Ludwig to return from a journey such as this. Now is the best time to tell him, to kiss him.

“I can’t,” Ludwig says.

His voice is steady, weighted with duty and determination. Yong Soo knows he cannot kiss him. He fears he’ll never feel this much for someone else again, but for Ludwig’s sake, all that’s lost cannot matter. He cannot burden him with another bundle of emotional baggage, cannot live with more guilt than he already bears. It’s selfish. He’s selfish, but he’s a creature of Hell, built for greed, for blood lust, for intricately woven webs of lies. He reaches forward, pressing his finger to Ludwig’s lips.

“Don’t tell anyone your name, and you cannot- You  _ cannot _ bleed. Under no circumstances can you shed a single drop of blood.” His voice cracks.

Ludwig moves to speak, but Yong Soo shakes his head, his finger light atop his lips. “Just repeat it. You won’t tell anyone your name, and you won’t shed a single goddamn drop of blood.”

He begins to pull his finger away, but Ludwig catches his wrist, his skin bursting with the heat of a million suns against him. He looks him dead in the eye, his tone pleading.

“I won’t tell anyone my name. I won’t bleed anywhere, but promise me that if I don’t come back after two days, you’ll go back home.”

Yong Soo stops. Cold rises to his cheeks, flushing them blue at the contact. Ludwig’s clear eyes bore into him like ice pricking at his veins, and Yong Soo is pinned beneath the weight of the guilt in his eyes.

“Please,” he says.

“Okay.”

Yong Soo has no intention of agreeing. Two days is too short a time to accomplish the task he seeks to fulfill, but even one is too long for any mortal to survive. It’s hopeless even with all Yong Soo has done, but just in case, he’ll wait for three. At most, it should take only three.

Ludwig releases his wrist with a nod. Fear flashes briefly across his features, lancing Yong Soo’s heart, but before he can react, before he can ask one more time for Ludwig to reconsider, Ludwig wades into the lapping water, his back turning towards Yong Soo. He rises to allow Ludwig past, biting hard at his lip. He tastes blood. 

Ludwig kicks out, the sound of churning water and howling gales mixing far away from Yong Soo’s ears. The fog thickens, and Ludwig becomes a blurry smudge of pale skin and red fabric against the ocean dark. Ludwig bends at the waist, his torso disappearing. The fog draws in, and by the time it parts once again, only his toes are visible above the waves and only for a second. Yong Soo exhales, dry panic clawing at his throat.

He watches the darkened waves roll in white crests atop the water. Black rocks jut out from the shores and ring the harbor in a crown of thorns. The wind is dying, allowing the fog to settle in thick, white sheets above the waves, and his wings are burning, peppered with poisonous condensation, the composition of the water threatening holes in his skin. He flaps back, eyes stinging, and settles back on the shore.

It’s 6:44.

 

* * *

He spends the first day huddled in the tent, munching on Ludwig’s favorite gummy bears and waiting for the hours to tick by. At the hour, he steps out and checks the perimeter.

He spends the second day huddled in the tent, pacing every other hour on the rocks and flying along the shore at the hour. At the close of the second day, his fears mount. 

Yong Soo rubs hard at his wings with the towel he’d brought, curses hot on his tongue as he finds he cannot reach it all. The mist has turned to water on his skin and his wings and his clothes, and it burns like licking fire where it settles. Every drop has become a torment, and Yong Soo groans, his wings curling tight around his body. He checks, bleary-eyed, for the time, his claws digging hard into the plastic of the watch. It’s Ludwig’s.

‘ **13:56** ,’ it reads in bold-faced, glowing letters. 

He pulls it close to his chest, pressing the chilled face against his chilled cheek. Four minutes; then he’ll check. 

 

* * *

At 9:00 on the second day, he stops checking for the hour. 

He flaps out into the drenching fog and hovers above the water, coming back to the shore only when his wings begin to fail. A sick panic is itching in his lungs, sprouting like dark poison in his veins. White-robed figures with black-night eyes flash rapid across his vision. Hot, sick fear trickles into his throat. Red blood, blond hair and bright red board shorts plague him every time his eyes blink closed. He crawls towards the shore, bone tired, at 17:14. His resolve isn’t breaking, but his stamina is failing, and he hurts. Everywhere. 

He hunches down on the rocks, knees curled up beneath his arms.

 

* * *

From 17:56 to 19:45, he stands rigid on the shoreline, peering out into the mist as it soaks through his shirt, his pants, his hair. He’s shivering, blank-eyed with aching pain, by the time the watch blinks 20:00.

 

* * *

He curses God. Curses heaven. Curses the Devil. Curses Hell. Everything hurts, and Ludwig is nowhere to be found. His chances are waning.

It’s 23:59.

 

* * *

Yong Soo stares, unfaltering, into the mist. Ludwig should have returned by now. The voice in his head tells him it’s unlikely he’s survived. It’s nearly impossible he’s still alive. Three days is too much. Seventy-two hours is too much. The pressure would’ve killed him. The million and one inhabitants of the ocean floor would’ve torn him to shreds of bloodied flesh and scattered him across the waves. White-robed figures, red-eyed crabs, mile-wide squid and viscous, drowning poison. There are too many ways to die, and Yong Soo knows only some: filled thick with worms, death crawling out from your eyes, your mouth, your nose, lacerated beyond recognition, strung out like string along their walls, punctured, beaten, ruptured. Red blood and pale skin and clear, pleading eyes dance across his vision, and Yong Soo gags at his own thoughts, coughing hard into the sea. 

It’s 4:11.

 

* * *

He dips his toes into the sea. It burns like boiling water, painful but not unbearable to a demon used to the licking heat of Hell. But when his toe meets the air once again, it scalds.

Yong Soo shouts, and the pain rolls white hot in his eyes, blinding. It’s as though a thousand knives cut red hot against his skin, pouring acid and gasoline down the wound and lighting it in flames. He stumbles back and hits the black rocks, barely feeling them as they cut his legs and palms. He’s sucking air, fallen to the ground, his voice hoarse and his toe burning. 

It’s 5:58.

 

* * *

It’s 6:44, and Ludwig is dead.

Yong Soo should fly back to Hell and check for incoming souls. He should make good on his end of the deal and consume it before he can overthink. 

Demons have fallen before in the trap of mortal love, demons who’ve held onto a soul as if it could speak again, hold them again, laugh with them again and gone mad with grief and rage. He knows he isn’t like that. He’ll move on. Or he won’t, but at the most, he’ll be empty, not mad.

It’s 6:44, and Ludwig is dead. 

Yong Soo kicks hard at the rocks, sits down by the water, and lets the mist settle on his skin.

It burns.

It’s what he deserves.

 

* * *

He did promise him he’d go back home after two days.

It’s 19:00, day three.

 

* * *

He thinks he’ll die here. He’ll fall asleep on the rocks, roll into the water and subsequently, die from the pain. Demons can die.

Well, temporarily.

It’s 19:52, day three.

 

* * *

He hasn’t cried yet. Perhaps, he isn’t capable.

It’s 20:00, day three.

 

* * *

“Wake up!” Someone is shaking him.

He’s shivering, and he’s forgotten what it feels like to not be in aching pain.

“Yong Soo, wake up!”

Oh. Yao.

“Go away,” He says, rolling back on the sand when it should be rocks.

He bolts up. He’s been moved from the shore. Blue blood has dried against his hands and legs, and his mouth is dry. He blinks, staring at the devil before him.

“Come home, Yong Soo. This is idiocy.”

“I won’t.”

“Then what? You’ll stay here forever?”

“A few more hours. I’ll come home by midday.” He means it. He just needs time to say goodbye. He needs to feel like he did all he could, so the guilt can hit him later.

Because it’s him who let Ludwig die.

“Fine.”

Yao is gone.

It’s 9:43.

 

* * *

At 12:00, he starts packing his things. He carries the food first, packs up the chips and gummies and chocolates he hid in his bag for when Ludwig returned no matter how small the chance may have been. Something aches in his chest, so he hurries and stuffs them all in the back. He brings the towels next, piles them up in the back of the car. He breaks down the tent like Ludwig showed him and stuffs it in the bag. It’s too fresh a reminder. The watch still blinks on his arm. 

He pads out to the rocks, barefoot against their jagged edges, and stares out into the water. His heart is too heavy for his chest. Soupy mist curtains his view of the water, burning on his skin, and his wings unfurl. He flaps once, the wind carrying him up, and he flies.

He finds nothing. 

He settles back on the rocks and strides away, numb to his pain.

Something splashes. His heart stills.

Before he knows it, he’s flying back across the water, low enough to touch the surface. He smells blood, and his heart is racing, adrenaline spiking white hot through his veins. Something dark writhes beneath the water, screams echoing from within, and a stray bit of red becomes visible for a second.  _ Ludwig _ . His heart jumps in his throat, and Yong Soo hits the waves.

It burns. His eyes fly open. Pain lances up from his skin and blinds his vision. It rushes like magma in his lungs, and it burns. He’s shackled in place by the sheer burning pain as his vision clears and the thing before him becomes visible. It’s black as night and as long as the harbor, a million tentacles lined with razor-sharp discs flailing wild through the water. And there’s Ludwig, grim-faced and kicking as hard as he can from the monster. 

The pain subsides enough. Enough that his stubbornness can override it. His lungs adjust to the water, and he jets forward with a flap.

There is blood streaming from Ludwig’s calf, but he appears otherwise unharmed, his eyes blowing wide at the sight of Yong Soo. He’s on him in seconds, arms wrapping him tight against his chest, and he propels them upwards. Ludwig’s cold. There’s no time.

An instant before they hit the surface, Yong Soo changes course, and his wings beat them towards the shore. He can’t afford to surface away from the shore when he knows the instant his skin touches air, the pain will override, and they’ll be helplessly vulnerable to the clutches of the monster. Even now, the water’s heat is building and the pain, worming closer to unbearable. Eyes squeezing shut, he steadies his breath and shoots out from the waves. 

His world goes white.

 

* * *

 

Yong Soo wakes up to a chorus of ‘fucks.’

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Someone is scrubbing at his skin with a towel, their voice brought low in a strained whisper.

He groans in response, blinking into the graying light. They’re hunched above him, his head cradled in their arm and his chest bare as the towel moves down it. He still feels damp, and that’s when it hits him.

“Ludwig?” He croaks.

Ludwig’s face comes into focus, his clear eyes fraught with worry and his lips parted in a string of curses. When Yong Soo speaks, he stops and stares, his eyebrows shooting high. 

“Yong Soo? You’re okay?”

He squints, staring up at Ludwig in mild confusion. He’s careful now not to shift, knowing how sharp his horns are and how precarious their situation is with his wings folded against Ludwig’s knees. Nothing hurts, but he swears he’s still dripping harbor water all over Ludwig’s car. He should be burning. He reaches up to touch Ludwig’s face, his fingers brushing against his skin, and he’s warm and solid beneath his fingertips. Yong Soo settles back in open relief. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Ludwig kisses him.

It’s warm and and gentle and just a little bit desperate. It’s like the summer sun along the wheat and butterfly wings against a cheek. Like red giants going supernova against the blackness of space. Like every good thing he’s been told of or dreamed of. It’s warm and tentative and hopeful and so very Ludwig.

He slides his hand up in Ludwig’s dripping hair and tugs him down against his mouth, his free hand running over Ludwig’s cheekbone with unspoken reverence. Ludwig is kissing him. He falters as Ludwig pulls away, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted. 

He’s beautiful.

“Wow.” Ludwig breathes. 

“Wow yourself.” Yong Soo grins, gently cupping Ludwig’s face in his hands. “Why’d you kiss me?”

He bites at his lip, his gaze averted and his voice soft. “Because… I’m in love with you?” 

“Oh.” Yong Soo’s heart skips a beat. Warmth floods light in his chest, and for a moment, he feels like he’s weightless.

“You probably don’t feel the same way. You don’t have to-”

He groans, falling as carefully back against Ludwig’s lap as he can. The high is still there, but reality is calling as Ludwig so characteristically begins to ramble. He raises a hand away from Ludwig’s face.

“Ludwig, I literally just fell into a fucking poison pool to save you from certain death. Please tell me what you think that means because I really didn’t do that shit because I like your hair or something. I do like your hair though. Don’t get me wrong.”

He flushes. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He blushes in return, trying his best to look nonchalant behind his quirked smile. 

“So you do like me?”

“Yes! Yes, holy shit, Ludwig, yes, that’s what I just said!” He thinks he may die from both first and secondhand embarrassment. He pauses, his flustered smile melting into concern. Ludwig’s leg had been bleeding. 

“Wait. Aren’t you still bleeding? The cut on your leg-” He pushes up from Ludwig.

Ludwig catches him by his arm, tugging him back onto his lap and cradling him against his chest. “No, it’s fine. It stopped bleeding. You can fix it later.”

He sighs contentedly in Ludwig’s warmth, wondering for a moment if they could stay like this forever. He tugs himself out from his own lulling comfort and hums. “Alright, but I still need to know if you got your brother or not for contract purposes.”

He falters, and Yong Soo’s stomach drops.

“I saw him. I got him, but he didn’t want to come back up with me.”

He stops, perplexed. “What? Did you lose him on the way up?” It isn’t unlikely considering the monster he’d found Ludwig by.

“No, he… He went to heaven, I suppose.”

“Gilbert went to…”

“Well, warrior heaven. Something similar Valhalla except we aren’t Norse, so…” Ludwig gestures vaguely with a hand.

“Ah, I see.” He relaxes at the explanation. “That’s a good choice. The dead don’t often want to come back to the land of the living. Either way, you’re a free man. You don’t owe me your soul  anymore. The deal is off.” He catches Ludwig’s hand and presses it gently to his lips. “Are you alright though? You’re going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, and that’s good to know, but I hope that doesn’t mean you’ll be ditching me anytime soon.” Ludwig smiles finally, tracing his fingers down Yong Soo’s face. 

He seems to be following a pattern, and Yong Soo’s brows raise up. He catches Ludwig’s other hand in his free one, his lips pursed in question. “What are you tracing? Are you writing something on my face?”

“Oh, you-” He pulls his hands gently from Yong Soo’s grip and runs his fingers down his face and his neck and his chest. Yong Soo shivers, and Ludwig continues to smile. “I don’t know, but you have patterns on your skin now. I think it was the water. Do you still feel cold?”

Yong Soo blinks. He doesn’t.

“No, I don’t.”

Ludwig leans down, his hands wrapping tenderly around Yong Soo’s horns, and breathes light against his skin. “Kiss me again, and maybe you’ll feel even warmer.”

Yong Soo smiles and kisses him again.


End file.
